Desire Collection: August 2017 Books 1 - 4. Rachel Bailey
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“What do you mean?”
“My best friend owns a security company, but he started out as a private investigator. He tracked down Kari the last time she skipped town. I’m sure he could do it again.” Linc’s words were as hard as diamonds and twice as cold. Oh, her sister had obviously done a number on this man’s head. Dammit, Kari.
“I’ll think about hiring a PI. But right now I just need to get us settled for the night and meet with a lawyer.”
“I’ll get Amy, my assistant, to find someone who specializes in family law,” Linc said, leaning sideways to pull his ultrathin phone out of his pants pocket.
Tate started to protest but snapped her mouth closed when he issued terse instructions into the phone. God, he sure didn’t waste time and was clearly a take-charge type of guy. Would he be like that in bed? Of course he would be; he’d be all “do this” or “do that,” and any woman alive would jump to be under his command. Including her. Tate knew, instinctively, that the pleasure he’d give her would be worth any amount of bossiness...
Someone slap me, please, Tate thought. Right...well, Linc wasn’t going to take charge of her...in or out of the bedroom.
Tate waited for him to finish his conversation, intending to tell him exactly that. Okay, she might be in his house, having run to him as Kari suggested, but it wasn’t his job to fix this.
“No, I am not going to tell you why,” Linc spoke into his phone, exasperated. “Jeez, Amy, you don’t need to know everything about everybody. Concentrate on your wedding arrangements or, better yet, do some work.”
Linc snapped the phone closed and tapped it against his thigh. “I share an assistant with my brother Beck and, unfortunately, she is scary efficient, which leaves her far too much time to meddle in our lives.”
Tate nodded, thinking that his crooked smile was charming, the grudging affection she heard in his voice endearing. She should go, she really should. But it was so nice in this warm house, and looking at Linc wasn’t a hardship. Tate yawned, fighting the urge to close her eyes. Jet lag and having her life flipped on its head was not a great combination.
Tate fought her tiredness, decided that it was time to leave and was about to stand when she heard the sound of feet on the wooden stairs, the piping voice of a little boy and the measured tones of an older woman. Shaw was home, she thought. Both excited and nervous to meet her nephew, Tate shot Linc an anxious look.
“He knows who Kari is,” he told her as he stood and stretched. “I’ll explain about Ellie when I think the time is right.”
Fair enough, Tate thought.
Tate heard the loud, excited “Dad!” and turned around to see a little boy fling himself at Linc’s legs. Tate couldn’t help noticing, and appreciating, the way Linc’s biceps bulged as he scooped his son up and into his arms, easily holding the three-foot dynamo.
“Dad! You’re home! What are you doing here? We made clay dinosaurs at school. Billy made Jamie cry. I fell down and scraped my knee. But I didn’t cry or anything.”
“I am home, buddy. I needed to meet someone here. I’d love to see the dinosaur you made... Where is it? Who is Billy and why did he make Jamie cry? I’m glad your knee is okay,” Linc calmly replied, sending a quick smile to the dark-haired, older woman who walked into the room. “Hey, Mom.”
Tate’s gaze danced over Shaw’s features; he had Kari’s blond hair, the same spray of freckles she remembered her sporting in her childhood and Kari’s spectacular eyes. Give him twenty years and he would be fighting off girls with a stick.
Shaw must’ve felt her eyes on him because his head whipped around, and his mouth dropped open with surprise. He wiggled out of his father’s arms and belted across the room to stand next to her. “I’m Shaw. Who are you?”
Keep it simple, she thought, seeing Linc’s concerned frown. “My name is Tate. And this—” she lifted the little girl’s fist “—is Ellie.”
Shaw placed his hands on his hips and cocked his head. “Okay. Did you come for a playdate with Dad?”
Tate held back her laugh. Oh, God, she wished that this situation was that simple. “I needed to chat with your dad.” She stood up and held out her free hand to Linc’s mother. “Hi, I’m Tate Harper, Kari’s sister.”
Linc frowned. “I thought she was your cousin.”
“Legally, we’re sisters. My mom adopted her when we were kids,” she explained.
Tate expected Jo to give her a very frosty reception, so she was very surprised when the older woman ignored her hand to lean in for a quick hug.
“You’re the travel presenter. I love your program! And who is this?” Jo looked at Ellie and shot Tate a sympathetic gaze, and her mouth tightened. “Don’t bother answering, I see the resemblance between her and Shaw. She’s done it again?”
Tate forced herself to meet Jo’s eyes, and saw a mixture of sympathy and anger. Sympathy for her, anger toward her ex-almost-daughter-in-law.
To her dismay, her eyes started to burn with tears. “I flew in from South America this morning. I had a meeting with my bosses. A few hours later and I’m suddenly responsible for a baby!” She waved her free hand in front of her face in an attempt to regain her composure. “Sorry! I’m not a crier but I’m so mad.”
“You need a cookie,” Shaw said, looking up at her, his expression concerned.
Tate let out a tiny laugh. “I probably do.”
“I’ll have one with you,” the little boy stated, his tone confident. “Then you can feel twice as better.”
Linc shook his head, and the amusement in his gray eyes made her heart stutter. “Nice try, mister. You can have an apple, and if you want a cookie, you can have it for an after-dinner treat. That’s the rule.” Linc placed both his hands on Shaw’s shoulders. “In the meantime, you can take your schoolbag upstairs and say hello to Spike.”
Shaw nodded and bounded away.
Tate lifted her eyebrows. “Who is Spike?”
“His bearded dragon,” Jo replied, shuddering. “Ugly little thing.”
Jo reached out and took Ellie from Tate’s arms. Ellie touched Jo’s cheek with her little hand, and Jo pretended to bite it. The older woman then turned her megawatt smile onto Tate. “Now, what are we going to do about you two?”
Tate darted a look at Linc and shook her head. “No, really, this isn’t your problem. I’ll make a plan, figure something out. I’ll buy that baby book and muddle along. We’ll be fine.”
“I think you should stay here tonight,” Jo said, her tone suggesting that she not argue. “Judging by your career, I doubt you have any experience with babies—”
“Try none,” Tate interjected.
“—and I can, at the very least, help you through your first night with her.”